


Simple Favors

by catsadams



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Fucking Lessons, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Really Poor Communication, Takes place in season 1, Virgin!Spencer, i promise there isn't a love triangle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsadams/pseuds/catsadams
Summary: Spencer Reid is desperately pining after Elle Greenaway, but there's one major problem: he has absolutely no experience. Luckily, he has you to teach him everything he needs to know to get a girl and please her.You're both doing this so he can get with Elle, right? At least, that's what you'll tell yourselves.
Relationships: Elle Greenaway/Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	Simple Favors

“Could I talk to you about something?”

You winced. That specific question never yielded a happy conversation, and you knew that your dream of a “nonsense-free” workday was growing more and more unattainable, even with the office thinning out by the minute. The last time you heard that question you got a stern talking-to from JJ, who was still reeling from your…  _ misadventures _ on Girl’s Night. Still, you turned, offering a smile to the younger agent at the desk next to yours. 

“Sure thing, Dr. Reid. Pull up a chair.”

The lanky agent was quick, albeit clumsy, to bring his chair as close to yours as possible, his knees touching yours as he leaned in, glancing back and forth to the empty desks surrounding you. A puzzled look appeared on your face as you followed his lead, glancing to Elle and Derek’s empty desks, and up to Hotch’s office, where lamplight was dimly visible through drawn shades. 

“You know Elle,” He finally said, his voice nervous and quiet. 

“Is that a question _? _ Reid, I sit next to her daily. We grab lunch together at least twice a week… I brought her to my cousin’s baby shower a week ago.”

He flustered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink as he shook his head. “No, I mean… you  _ know _ her. You know what kind of guys she likes.”

“I mean, yeah, she talks to me about that sort of thing,” you replied with a shrug, clicking your pen as you set it down on your desk. “Why does that matter?” He got quiet, and suddenly very interested in the threads at the hem of his sweater. 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

“Wow… um… I… I don’t think I’m the right person to talk to about this, Reid,” you said, stumbling over your words in obvious discomfort.

“But you just said she talks to you about it!” He argued, a bit of hope evident in his eyes as he gazed into yours. “ _ Please _ , I just want to know if I have a chance.”

“I didn’t think she’d be your type,” you mused, raising a brow. “ _ But  _ I guess now that you’ve admitted it… it’s kind of obvious you’re into her.” You sighed, picking nervously at your nails. “The last guy she got with was a uh… a lawyer of some kind, I think. I don’t really remember, because most of what Elle told me was that he was a dick and she only stuck around because…” You glanced at him, cheeks burning hot. “Because he was  _ really _ good in bed.” His eyes furrowed and you sighed. “Experienced, Reid. Like, sexually.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” he replied, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “So that’s important?”

“I guess?” You replied, swallowing down your discomfort and guilt about spilling Elle’s sex life to  _ Spencer Reid _ . “I mean… if I  _ had _ to find something in common with all the people she’s been with, men and women, it would be that they were…  _ experienced _ .”

“Experience can be… subjective, can’t it?”

“No, not really,” you replied with a laugh, cocking your head to the side. “Look, Reid, if you’re interested in Elle, talk to Elle. I’m neck-deep in paperwork and I’m going to be here all night regardless, so… are we done?”

With a sigh, he nodded, rolling his chair back to his desk, where he sat quietly for the next few minutes. Your eyes burned as you stared down at the paperwork below you, squinting as words blurred and smudged together before your eyes. You groaned, staring at the stack of papers you couldn’t seem to make a dent in. 

Meanwhile, you could hear Spencer packing his bags behind you, preparing to go home for the night and… read? Memorize an encyclopedia for fun? You had a  _ life _ . You found yourself sulking, thinking about how if  _ anyone _ should be getting home first it should be you.

“Did you want any help with anything?” He asked, sidling up beside your desk.

You snorted, looking up at him with a half-smile. “What? One stack of paperwork in exchange for help with Elle?”

His eyes went wide, as if he was utterly shocked by your proposal. Not  _ as if _ , you realized, he actually  _ was  _ surprised. His gaze softened, and a smug grin made its way onto his lips. “I wasn’t actually thinking of exploiting your friendship, but if you’re going to offer your help I won’t say no.”

_ Damn it. _ You sighed, sliding half the remaining pages toward him. “You do this and I’ll feel out Elle and see where she stands.”

A wide smile spread across Spencer’s face, and you couldn’t help but match it. You didn’t really have a relationship with Spencer outside of work. He seemed annoyed when you asked him irrelevant questions, but he was always willing to work with you when a profile stumped you. He was nice, and had a keener sense of humor than anyone else gave him credit for. 

You had to admit… Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad to be around. Even if Elle might not see it, you thought he was cute— handsome, even. You wanted to show him how to dress a little less like an auditor and more like a twenty-something agent fresh from the academy, teach him how to move the confidence he spoke with about statistics into every part of his life.

“Did you need something? You’re staring at me,” he said, shifting his weight back and forth. You shook your head quickly, cheeks burning, and turned back to the paperwork. 

—————

It was about time for lunch when you finally worked up the nerve to go talk to Elle. Spencer had been less than subtle about how anxious he was for you to hold up your side of the agreement. Practically every time you stood to go refill your mug of coffee he gave urgent nods towards the brunette. 

With a sigh, you grabbed your thermos of soup and meandered casually towards the kitchenette, where Elle was picking at a salad. 

“Hey,” you said, a half-smile on your lips. “I have a weird question.” She furrowed her brows, glancing at you with narrowed eyes. You knew without her needing to say anything— she could see  _ right _ through you. “It’s nothing bad, I promise, I just need  _ you _ to promise not to make a big deal about it or be obvious.”

Elle placed her fork back into her bowl, crossing her arms as she took the sight of you in. “Oh my god, do you need me to buy you a pregnancy test?”

“ _ No! _ ” You insisted. “Look, I just… I want to know what you think about Reid.”

“Oh…” She trailed off, glancing behind herself so Spencer had to quickly avert his eyes. “I guess he’s pretty cute.” She looked back at you, brows knitted in confusion as you looked at her expectantly. “And… smart? Look, I don’t know what you’re asking, so can you please rip off the bandaid and say what you’re thinking?”

You sighed, glancing past her to make eye contact with Spencer, who looked like he was desperately trying to hear the conversation from afar. “Um…” You forced your gaze from Spencer and back to Elle. “Would you ever hook up with Spencer? Do you think that would be weird… for you?”

Elle’s eyes went wide with a sort of recognition, and she glanced back at Spencer once more. “No! No, I totally don’t think that would be weird for me… or  _ anybody _ who might be interested. I mean… who knows, he could be a secretly amazing fuck, and  _ whoever _ got with him would be  _ very _ happy. Right?” She smiled slyly, taking another bite of her salad. “Anyways, good talk. I’m gonna have a working lunch.”

A smile spread across your lips as you watched her walk back to her desk, feeling proud of yourself for actually having found out that Elle was  _ totally _ down. As subtly as possible, you nodded Spencer into the hallway that was perfectly out of sight and earshot of the team. 

As soon as he joined him you immediately grinned victoriously. “Okay, she thinks you’re cute, smart, and she thinks you could secretly be great in bed. I think you should go for it.”

He swallowed, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. “Um… what if I’m not great in bed?”

You gave a sympathetic smile. “Aw, Reid, c’mon, don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure you’ve made some lucky people  _ very  _ happy.”

“And if, to date, I’ve made no one happy?” His face was practically cherry red, his lips drawn into a firm line with embarrassment.  _ Oh god _ . There were some lines you just shouldn’t cross with co-workers. Finding out that  _ Dr. Reid _ was a virgin was definitely something you could have gone without knowing. 

“That doesn’t matter,” you insisted. “No one cares if you’ve been with no one or a hundred people unless you’re not being safe and you’re a walking infection.” He wrinkled his nose, a childlike pout on his lips. 

“You  _ just said _ Elle liked being with experienced people,” he reminded you. “And that one of the three reasons she would even consider being with me is because she thinks  _ I’m _ experienced.”

_ Goddammit.  _ You definitely did say both of those things. “Okay, so if you’re worried about it don’t try to get with Elle, Reid,” you sighed, ready to push pack him and get back to writing a cursory profile for a case in some small town. 

“You told me you’d help me, (Y/N),” he said before you could go, looking as defeated as he sounded. “ _ Please _ , I’ll do all your paperwork, I’ll never complain if you come to me with pointless questions. I’ll let you have the couch or window seat on the jet every time.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you replied, chewing on your bottom lip. “It’s not like I can just magically give you the experience you want, Reid. I gather you’re not used to working at being good at something, and women aren’t just a textbook to memorize. It takes time and practice to get to the point you want to be at.”

The thought came to you maybe a millisecond after it came to Spencer, and you instantly closed your eyes and set your lips in a firm line.  _ Fuck _ .

“ _ Please _ ,” he said, practically giving you puppy dog eyes. “I’d pay you.” He winced, shaking his head. “No, that didn’t come out right. I just mean that if you were to teach me and help me practice before I try to go out with Elle, I’d owe you.”

“Look, I’m not… completely opposed. Let’s just talk about this somewhere else, okay?” You asked, glancing at the agents passing the two of you in the hall. “You know how gossip is around here. Just… just make a list of things you want to know and we can talk about it over lunch tomorrow.”

He gave a pleased smile, and you could see him physically restraining himself from hugging you, either out of a sense of decorum, or a last-minute instinct that reminded him he didn’t like to touch people. He gave a nod, offered an awkward wave, and quickly turned to half-run back to his desk. 

—————

You felt like you were undercover, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out what you were up to. You were clad in all back, with a pair of sunglasses on for good measure. Spencer, however, stuck out like a sore thumb in a too-big sweater and his lanky shape. 

“Okay,” he said, his hands shaking as he brought out a neat piece of paper. “I wrote down 21 things that I’d like to learn, but I’m open to suggestions.” His cheeks were a bright pink, and he could hardly meet your gaze as he slid the list towards you. You took it into your hands, squinting to make out his handwriting. 

At first, they were questions.  _ What’s the best way to hold hands? What is spooning? What is making out? How long do hugs last? What do you do after intercourse? _

But you could see the point where his embarrassment got the best of him and he started listing things he was far too embarrassed to explain his confusion about.  _ Foreplay. Nipple stimulation. Clitoral stimulation. Intercourse (positions?). Oral sex. Digital Stimulation. Cunnilingus. Average refractory period. Overstimulation (good or bad?). Moaning. Dirty talk. Consent. Kissing. Clothed Sex. Sexual lingo. Erogenous zones.  _

“Okay, this is a good start,” you replied, handing him back the list. You extended your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers invitingly. “C’mon, Reid, I’m answering question one, but I’m willing to go out of order. This is me telling you I’m going to try to help.”

He nodded quickly, extending his hand to meet yours, interlacing your fingers on the tabletop. You smiled, rubbing circles on his hand with your thumb. He furrowed his brows, glancing down at your hands. “See what I’m doing?” You asked. He gave a nod, still not meeting your gaze. “I’m going to stop, and I want you to try that. It just tells the other person that you’re present and in the moment, and that you like touching them.”

He nodded and your thumb stilled as you looked at him expectantly. After a bit of a nervous pause, he started rubbing small, slow circles with his thumb.  _ Good, adept hands _ . You wanted to shake off the thought, but there it was, and you had a feeling you’d have a few of those if this went on long enough. 

“Like that?” He peered up at you through his lashes and you felt your stomach drop  _ quick _ . You gave a small nod and a smile lit up his face. “So interlacing fingers is the best way to hold hands?”

“It’s less sweaty,” you explained. “Holding hands like  _ this _ is really for dating. Or, I guess if you’re sleeping together and you want to hold your partner’s hand.”

“Sleeping together?” He asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

You gave a light laugh and shook your head. “It’s a euphemism, for sex, Reid.  _ Making love _ . Sometimes, when the feeling is right, you want to hold hands and feel closer. It makes it more intimate.” He nodded, his thumb still rubbing careful circles on your hand. “Do you want to take any notes?”

He shook his head. “I have an eidetic memory, I’ll remember everything you tell me.”

You grinned, taking a long drink of the ice water in your glass. For some reason, you  _ really _ felt like you needed it. 

He pulled his hand away when the entrees came, and you happily dove into the sandwich and soup you’d ordered yourself, having a meaningless conversation about your favorite museum exhibits or places you’d traveled while you cleared your plates. The conversation idled, and you glanced down at Spencer’s wristwatch briefly. 

“So… I don’t really have plans if you wanted to maybe work through a couple more of the basics,” you said, hoping you sounded as casual as you wanted to. 

“Oh,” he said, his voice higher than before. “Yeah. That would- That would be okay with me, if you, uh, if you wanted to do that.”

“Okay?” You asked, giving him a winning smile. 

“Mhmm.” He turned towards a waiter walking past, and you’d be amiss if you didn’t hear the urgency in his voice when he very politely requested the check.

——

Spencer Reid held your hand the entire time you rode the metro towards his apartment, all the way in Virginia. He explained that he did have a car, but he didn’t drive it much after reading an article about carbon emissions. An  _ emergency only _ mode of transport that stayed parked in his apartment’s lot. 

Said apartment was nicer than you expected. The outside made it evident that it was more like a condo, that it was a larger house that had been adapted to house more people. Inside there was a certain charm— lots of books, big windows, clutter on every surface. It was every bit of what you’d expected when you envisioned him going home for the night. Spencer offered you a glass of water, and you accepted, thinking he was nervous and just needed something to do. 

His absence gave you the opportunity to settle on the couch and observe what his apartment had to offer. Despite the clutter, it still wasn’t quite lived in. There was nothing hung on the walls, no permanence. It was a temporary stay, a placeholder for something he wanted more. You turned a book that sat on his coffee table, with pages dog-eared and sticky notes jutting from the side. You felt your cheeks burn when you realized that it was an old copy of a sex education book. If you had to date it, you’d probably place it around the early nineties. 

Spencer settled on the couch beside you, handing you the glass of water. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that you’d noticed his reading habits of late, or maybe he was comfortable enough with you that he didn’t think you would care. If anything, you were impressed. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You asked, turning slightly to face him. He shook his head, gulping down iced water to occupy himself. “That’s okay, it’s a lot easier than you think. Is it okay if I lean in and give you a quick kiss? Closed mouth, no touching, just to get your first out of the way.”

“Mhmm,” he said, the nervous pitchiness back in his voice. “Are you going to count, or should we just—” He froze as your lips met his in a brief, chaste kiss. You pulled back, a half-smile on your lips as he stared at you, dazed and dopey.

“How did that feel?”

“Good,” he replied, his usual knack for words escaping him. “Can we do it again?” You nodded, brushing his hair back gently before you leaned in again, capturing his lips with yours.

You hoped that pure instinct would kick in and make it easier as you parted your lips slightly, deepening the kiss beyond an innocent peck. He hummed against your mouth and he moved his hands to cradle your face.

“That was good,” you said as you pulled back. “See, you don’t need very much help at all, do you? It’s all instinctual, Reid.” You paused, taking a long drink of water. “I think you should stay hydrated too. If you want to get kissing down pat you don’t want dry mouth.”

He nodded, polishing off his glass before turning to you expectantly.  _ Eager boy _ . “Can you teach me how to make out? What does it mean exactly?”

God, you couldn’t help but blush at how  _ innocent _ he was, looking at you with sweet doe eyes and so much trust it made you want to cry or pounce. 

You tried not to be flustered by it all, but you’d be lying if you said that the entire situation, absurd as it was, wasn’t getting to you. 

“I guess it’s just kissing for an extended period of time,” you replied, tucking a lock of hair back into place. “You can add tongue, or change the position you’re in, use your hands…” He nodded, looking at you expectantly. 

You sighed, steeling yourself, and shifted so you were straddling his lap. “What do you think about this position?” You asked. It wasn’t hard to meet his gaze when your faces were mere inches apart. 

“I like how close we are,” he replied, his eyes flicking from your lips and back to your eyes. “What should I do with my hands?”

You shrugged, taking them in your own so you could place them firmly on your lower back. His breath hitched, and he looked up at you nervously. As his breath picked up, you watched his adam's apple bob in his throat, his chest rising and falling as you leaned forward. “Is this the closest you’ve ever been with someone like this?” He gave a weak nod. “You’re doing good. Why don’t you lean in to kiss me this time?”

He nodded, steeling himself with a deep breath before he closed the distance between you sweetly, tentatively. You followed his lead completely, keeping it chaste and sweet. You could feel his hesitance at deepening it… so you gave him a little break. 

The first time your tongue brushed his, you could feel him tense beneath you, trying to process the very foreign feeling as you shifted in his lap. Deep in his throat, he hummed lightly, a sound of approval, of satisfaction. You took that approval as a sign that you could experiment a little more by brushing your fingers through his hair, letting your free hand rest on his chest to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 

Just as you moved to pull back and check in with him, he leaned into you with a newfound hunger, his hands traveling slowly up your sides until they framed your face. You leaned in, and he chased your lips hungrily, parting his mouth slowly and intently as he tried desperately to taste you. His thumbs brushed against the skin of your face, his fingers wove into your hair, and your heart hammered. 

A wicked thought crossed your mind, and, before you could help it, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth teasingly, relishing in the catch in his breath. You just as quickly leaned back in, peppering his mouth with sweet kisses that eventually trailed down his jaw, right to the junction of his throat. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” he practically whimpered, his voice trembling. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, pressing a soft kiss to his pulse point. “Whatever you want,” you hummed against his skin. “I told you, Reid, this is all instinct. If I have to redirect you… I will.” You pressed another kiss to his throat, sucking gently so his breath caught once again. “Go ahead, sweet boy.”

His hands shook as they roamed your body, his touch featherlight as his fingertips grazed your waist, your hips. So tentative, hesitant. “C’mon, Reid,” you murmured, letting your tongue brush over the mark you left. “I  _ want _ you to touch me. I can’t teach you unless you actively participate. Do you want to stop?”

“No!” He insisted quickly. “I want to keep going, I do, but I just, um, I just don’t want to d— to disrespect you.” He gave a nervous laugh, brushing his hair back. You sat back on his lap, holding his hands in yours. 

“You’re very sweet, Spencer,” you said, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “Would it make you feel better if I guided your hands?” He gave a small nod and you smiled, leaning in to give him a quick peck on his lips. “Alright.”

You adjusted your hands so you could guide him however you wanted, which he seemed grateful for. He liked the way your hands felt as they enveloped his, as they moved his across the fabric of your clothes, surrounded by you entirely. You let his hands settle on your breasts and he gave a choked whimper as he shifted beneath you. Gently, you guided his fingers so he squeezed slightly, and you gave a slightly exaggerated moan for his sake. 

“All good?” You asked. He gave a dazed nod in return, and you captured his lips once more in a hungry kiss. 

You could feel him getting more comfortable as you continued. He began testing things he’d felt you do— biting at your lip, trailing his lips down your throat. And you tried to keep a sense of decency, but he was a  _ good _ kisser, and there was something so enticing and innocent about the way he sucked and kissed at your neck, making soft noises against your skin. 

You guided his hands once again, down… and then beneath your shirt. His fingers traced at your skin first, memorizing the texture, how soft and warm you were underneath his touch. Then, you moved on, letting his hands travel until they reached the band of your bra… and then dipped under. 

“Oh my god,” he murmured, squeezing your tits just as you had guided him before. You could practically feel his pulse thrumming in his fingertips as you leaned back in to kiss at his neck. But as you shifted in his lap, you realized that  _ maybe _ you’d let the first lesson get a little out of hand. 

A moan escaped him as you moved, pressing against the bulge in his slacks that was not only incredibly noticeable but also impossible to act like you  _ didn’t _ notice.  _ Fuck _ . 

“Shit, it’s late,” you said, removing yourself from his lap quickly. He immediately grabbed a throw pillow and held it over his lap, not subtly at all. “I should get going.”

“It’s only three in the afternoon. And I thought you, uh, you didn’t have plans?” Spencer asked, incredibly flustered, as evidenced by the pink tinge to his cheeks and nose.

As you scrambled for a lie, you let yourself take a good look at him— throat peppered with bruises, his lips swollen and red. Even his hair, which he usually kept gelled and out of the way had become unkempt, falling messily into his face so he had to keep brushing it back behind his ear.

“I— I just… Have to make something in the crockpot for dinner. And the later I start it the later I eat.”  _ Horrible lie. _

“Oh, that makes sense,” Spencer replied. “Do you know how to get back from here?” You nodded, leaned in for one finally peck, and waved goodbye as you practically darted out the door.

————

On Tuesday, the team got called out for a case. You got the room by the ice machine, which meant a constant, grating noise at all hours. Of course the bed backed up to it, because there was little else to expect when it came to your luck.

Spencer’s gaze never wandered too far from you. He was at a whiteboard jotting down fragments of a profile, then you could feel his eyes on you, drinking you in, before going right back to work. You wanted to ask, but you knew. 

He wanted ( _ needed _ ) to know where the two of you stood. Would you keep going? Would you stop and pretend it didn’t happen? Would you still help him with Elle either way?

“Hey, sunshine, Hotch wants you to interrogate the suspect,” Derek said, interrupting your coffee break.

You groaned, pouring the dark liquid down the drain before you turned to the handsome agent. “I loathe being called that, by the way. Just because some slimy suspect called me that  _ once _ I’m going to be stuck with it forever, aren’t I?” Derek nodded with an amused grin and you sighed, following him to the interrogation room… and feeling Spencer tracing your path until you were out of sight. 

As soon as you made it inside, Derek stopped you with a hand on your arm. You sighed— of  _ course _ Hotch hadn’t asked you to lead an interrogation yet. 

“So… what’s going on with you and pretty boy?” 

“Nothing,” you insisted. “I’ve just been giving him some dating advice.”

Derek frowned, glancing back towards the precinct like he had half a mind to confront Spencer about it too. “C’mon… why would he ask you instead of me?”

You grinned, nudging him in the side. “I give great dating advice, don’t I? I set you up with that cute journalist a few weeks ago, the one with the long nails who—”

“ _ Yes _ , her. I remember.” Derek gave you a careful once over, like he was trying to find your tell. But you  _ weren’t _ lying. You really were giving Spencer dating advice… in a very hands-on approach. 

But that didn’t mean that you were anything more than platonic, right? It was just a favor, from one friend to the other, so he could get with your mutual friend. It was all perfectly copacetic, and you had every intention of keeping it that way.

You stood there, thinking about kissing Spencer, while Hotch and Gideon laid in on a slimy-looking soccer coach. Everything about Reid’s touch had been so reverent and timid, an explorer charting new waters. Amazement and excitement at every new dip and valley his hands found, a new foreign tongue to learn and practice.

But you would be lying to say you held any feelings for Spencer that weren’t strictly platonic. You were going to help him get with Elle, give him some experience… and that was it. You knew that, Spencer knew that… so what’s wrong with a few sexual favors between friends?

—————

That night, Spencer knocked on your door, his arms crossed over his chest, an innocent blush painting his cheeks. 

“Do you mind if I come in?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest defensively. You leaned past him to glance down the hall, making absolutely sure that no one would see before you nodded him in. As soon as the door closed, he dipped down to give you a chaste kiss, his hands firmly by his sides. “Is it okay if I kiss you occasionally to practice while we’re alone? Or would you like me to ask permission?”

“It’s okay if you want to kiss me,” you replied, still tasting his sweet-flavored chapstick on your lips.  _ So that’s how his lips are always so soft _ . “Did you want to talk about something? It’s almost midnight and we still haven’t cracked this case.”

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip as he settled on the hotel bed, a nervous glint in his gaze. “Are you sure you want to be doing…  _ what we’re doing _ ? You ran out of my apartment this weekend as soon as…” He blushed even deeper, refusing to meet your gaze. “As I  _ reacted _ .”

You sighed, not wanting to dive into the conversation, but knowing it was unavoidable all the same. “Look, Reid,” you started, not even knowing what you needed to say. “You’re my friend, and sometimes it’s just hard to cross that line when it comes down to it. I didn’t mean to upset you, but it was just a lot of change very quickly that I hadn’t really anticipated.” You paused, gathering yourself with a quick breath. “Maybe we just… stick to one thing off the list at a time for now. Like…” You paused, trying to think of one of them off the top of your head that wasn’t very extreme. “You wanted to know about fingering, so if I teach you how to  _ do it _ I’ll show you how it feels in return.”

“Fingering?!”

“Jesus, Reid, not on day two,” you replied, turning on the coffee pot on the small kitchenette. “I feel like the equivalent of fingering is a handjob, you know? And the equivalent of anal fingering is always anal fingering. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. “Where did you learn all of this?”

You almost choked at the question, your cheeks burning hot. “Experience, I guess. Books, movies, porn, gossip. If you read something that wasn’t a scientific paper or some dusty classic you 

might not even need my help.” He gave a sheepish laugh and nodded, and you could tell that, despite the event’s rarity, Spencer Reid might actually have been at a loss for words. 

You settled on the bed beside him, covering his anxious, wandering hand with your own. “You don’t have to go for Elle,” You reminded him. “If she doesn’t want you as you are, she doesn’t deserve you. You don’t need to change who you are to find a date. I’m sure there are thousands of people out there who’d bend over backward to date  _ the _ Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Not likely,” he replied, his thumb brushing over your skin. “In fact, I think you’re the only person who’s ever been this close to me voluntarily.”

You raised a brow, reaching up to brush his unruly hair out of his face. He hadn’t fixed it after his shower, so it hung down messily, wavy without the layers and layers of gel he always hid it behind. “Have you ever  _ let _ someone this close?” You asked. “Emotionally or physically.”

He gave a shaky breath, leaning into your touch.  _ Poor boy _ , you thought, brushing your thumb across his bottom lip as he shook his head.  _ He’s absolutely touch starved _ . 

“That’s why then,” you replied, pulling his bottom lip down. “Do you want to learn a little more tonight?” He nodded. “Tell me what you want to do then.”

He closed his eyes just for a moment, like everything got a little too overwhelming and he had to close off at least one sense before he could speak up. “You said something about… about fingering earlier,” He finally spoke up. When he opened them again, there was a sort of steely reserve. “Majority of women can’t reach climax through penetration alone, so digital stimulation is a good start for learning how to make a partner achieve orgasm during foreplay.”

“Lingo was on your list too, right? So let’s start there first. Technical talk can be sexy, in the right context, but sometimes the wordiness can be a bit… unassuming in the heat of the moment, do you agree?”

He nodded, though you were keenly away that he couldn’t exactly agree with no experience, so you sighed and gave an example. “Do you know what the word cum means?”

“It’s practically synonymous with climax  _ and _ ejaculate. The first known use of it as a verb dates back to Bishop Percy’s  _ Walking in a Meadowe Greene _ which was a loose collection of songs from the seventeenth century. As a noun referring to ejaculate, the usage dates back to the 1920s.”

“ _ Oh,  _ that’s actually really interesting, Reid,” you replied, and he looked rather proud of himself. “When you’re trying to be intimate with someone, sometimes it’s better to use words that are a little more common. Would you rather your partner _ tell you _ they’re getting close to climax, or have them  _ moan _ that they’re going to cum?”

“Whichever they want, I think,” he replied, confusion in those pretty doe eyes of his. 

You sighed, giving a resigned nod. “Okay, how about this? You can use whatever words you want to describe things, but I’ll use the more common words and slang terms so you know what they mean. If you want to start using those words, you can just switch to whichever is easier, deal?”

He nodded, looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to make the first move. It was sweet, and you couldn’t help but enjoy how pliable and eager he was… but this wasn’t for you, this was so he could win over Elle. “Sometimes, Reid, you need to take a little initiative, okay?” You suggested. “Let’s do a hypothetical.  _ Hypothetically _ I’m Elle, and you’ve just brought me into your apartment after a successful date. We’re sitting together on your couch. What do you want, and how are you going to get it?”

He sighed deeply, his brows furrowed.  _ Too much thinking _ . “I want—”

You took his face in your hands, silencing him with a deep kiss, feeling his words melting against your tongue. You pulled back, meeting his gaze seriously. “I didn’t overthink that, Spencer. I wanted to kiss you, and I kissed you. Do you see what I’m saying?”

He nodded, though he still seemed vaguely lost in the situation. You watched him take a breath, and meet your gaze. He leaned in, and with the sweetest, most innocent voice you’ve ever heard, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded softly and he pulled you in with two hands cradling your face. It was gentle, but hungry. His tongue brushed yours like he wanted to memorize your taste, delicate and purposeful. One of his hands moved from your face, finding new purchase on the small of your back, bringing you even closer. 

A fast learner. He moved his other hand to your waist and guided you onto his lap, which seemed uncharacteristically smooth of him. “Have you—” You pulled back, only for him to chase your lips and capture your mouth with another hungry kiss. “Have you really never kissed anyone before?”

He shook his head, looking up at you through those pretty lashes of his. “Why? Am I really that bad?” He asked. 

You leaned back in, kissing him with everything you could muster. He moaned against your lips, squirming beneath you. When you pulled back, his lips were swollen and pink. “You’re a fucking amazing kisser, Dr. Reid. You’re going to figure the rest out in no time.”

Disconcerted by the sudden quiet, you kissed him once more, just to occupy your lips and silence your racing thoughts. He sighed against you, pulling your hips so you were even closer,  _ impossibly closer. _

“Are you…” He murmured against your lips. “I mean… Can I try…” You gave a chaste kiss in response, then pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.  _ Such a sweet, sweet boy _ . It almost made you wish that everything you were doing was real, and not just a ploy to get him together with Elle. 

“It takes a little longer for me to get ready for that, Reid,” you explained. “ _ But _ … if you want, I could get you off first, just to show you how it feels. I like  _ giving _ and hearing my partners react to what I do to them is what turns me on… so by the time you’ve finished I’ll be ready for you to return the favor. Does that sound good?”

He released a shaky, nervous breath and nodded. “Okay. How should I… I mean where do you want me?”

You hummed contemplatively, glancing around the room. You didn’t usually put this much thought into giving guys handjobs, but Spencer hadn’t been touched before, and you felt like you owed it to him to make it the best possible. High stakes, and no reward. 

“Why don’t you sit against the headboard, hm?” You climbed off of his lap and he stood suddenly, pulling off his sweater, and starting on the button-up shirt beneath it. You furrowed your brows, watching him shrug the shirt off of his shoulders and move onto his pants. 

“You don’t really need to take everything off,” you said, meeting his gaze as he began working on his belt. 

“I don’t like making a mess when I… um… when I cum.” 

He said it so plainly, his cheeks tinged pink and blushy as he clumsily stepped out of his pants, nearly falling over himself as he did so. A giggle escaped you as you sat forward, grinning at the sight of him in spaceship printed boxers and mismatched socks. 

“C’mere, Reid, sit down,” you instructed, nodding towards the headboard. He did as you told him, sitting forward to clumsily pull off his socks and get comfortable propped up against the pillows. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” he admitted plainly. “But— um— ready. Definitely ready.”

“Okay, sweet boy,” you mused, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Tell me if it gets too overwhelming for you, okay?” He nodded weakly, leaning in for another kiss as your hands wandered the expanse of his chest, nails lightly brushing across his skin so he shivered. Of course, you noticed the catch in his breath when you trailed your fingers across his nipples, and you tucked that idea away for later. Another day, another lesson. You smiled against his lips at the thought, letting your hand wander farther.

He cried out as you palmed him through the soft cotton of his boxers, silencing himself by digging his teeth into his bottom lip. You couldn’t help but laugh as you kissed your way along his jaw, sloppy and wet. You were careful, though. If you left marks, everyone would notice, and you’d both be had.

Instead, you focused most of your attention below the belt, as you stroked him through the fabric, tracing the length of his cock in slow, deliberate movements, in time with your lips on his neck. He was quiet, through much effort on his part. Every sound that escaped him was quiet and muffled behind his teeth.

By the time you slipped your hand beneath the band of his boxers, you were sure he’d drawn blood from the way he was biting his lip. His breaths were suddenly short and staccato, his hand fisted in the comforter. You found his free hand with yours and intertwined your fingers, giving a comforting squeeze. You sat back and opened your eyes, glancing at him through your lashes. 

His chest rose and fell nervously, and you watched him swallow down his nerves as you took his length into your hand. The noise that escaped him sent a rush of excitement through you, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips as you began exploring with your hand. 

But… he wasn’t hard, despite your best efforts. And you  _ thought _ he’d been into it while you were sitting in his lap. It wasn’t like men’s arousal was as invisible as women’s, you could fucking feel him beneath you. But, evidently, you were mistaken. You continued stroking him, but it was to no avail. You sat back, withdrew your hand, and gave him an understanding smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, embarrassment dripping from every syllable. “I’m just so nervous.”

You nodded, giving him a gentle kiss. “It’s a lot of pressure, right?” You asked. He nodded and you squeezed his hand once more. “Let’s level the playing field then.” His brows furrowed, but then you were in front of him pulling your tee shirt off to reveal you were bare beneath it. He swallowed, and you could practically see his pulse thrumming in his throat. 

You shifted, lifting your waist to shimmy down the flannel pajama shorts you always brought with you on cases like this— comfortable and thin. His breathing went shaky again, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you settled back beside him. 

“Now we’re even, Dr. Reid.” He nodded, his eyes glued to the sight of your bare chest. You grinned, lifting his gaze up with two fingers beneath his chin. He blushed a bright red and you smiled at the sight, relishing in his utter  _ awe _ . 

No one had ever looked at you the way Spencer did before that moment. The excitement and reverence and sheer adoration in his eyes made your chest feel like it would implode. If it was someone else, or a different situation, you’d probably start falling for him. But he was Spencer, and you were setting him up with your friend. There wasn’t any room for anything else. 

“Are you ready for me to try again?” You asked. He nodded, gaze still averting down to your chest like he just couldn’t help it. “How about I let you play with my tits if you promise you won’t keep any of the pretty noises you make from me?”

“Okay,” he replied, giving you a sweet, eager smile. You repositioned yourself on his lap this time out of ease and nodded for him to go ahead. But instead of going in with both hands like you fully expected him to, he left the other unoccupied so he could lace his fingers with yours once more. It was sweet… but you wondered how much sweet you could take. 

You sat back, peeling his boxers down his thighs, just enough to free his cock. At the same time, he started palming at your tits, as best as he could with only one free hand, and you could see his cock twitch in reaction.  _ Holy shit holy shit holy fucking shit. _

You took a centering breath as you took his length into your hand, your heart hammering in your chest despite your best efforts. He was pretty all over, which you thought wasn’t very fair. Someone as smart, sweet, and handsome as Spencer ought to have  _ some _ flaws  _ somewhere _ . You didn’t want to say anything stupid, so you kissed him again. 

You liked the way his moans tasted on your tongue as you started to stroke his length. Every sound he made was soft and almost surprised, like he didn’t know something could feel  _ that good _ . You pulled back, grinning as he chased your lips once again. It was very like him, you decided, to follow you, begging for more affection and attention. 

“You’re doing so good, Reid,” you praised, meeting his half-lidded gaze. He twitched in your hand and your eyes went wide with amusement. He liked being praised, apparently, which, you supposed, made a  _ lot _ of sense. 

_ So _ , you decided,  _ better to run with it _ . “And your hands feel so good on me. You’re so good at everything, aren’t you, sweet boy? I knew you’d be a natural.” He gave a low moan and a wicked smile made its way onto your lips as you started moving your hand faster, relishing in the way he shifted and bucked his hips beneath you, desperate for more. 

“You like hearing me tell you how  _ perfect _ you are, don’t you?” You asked, leaning in to nip lightly at his jaw. He nodded, soft whimpers escaping him as you trailed bites and kisses until you reached his ear, where you could whisper filthy things without even batting a lash. “Then you’ll like to know that you have the most perfect dick I’ve ever seen… and that you’ve made me wetter than anyone I’ve hooked up with in years, and you haven’t even really touched me yet.”

He threw his head back, his moans getting louder and louder as you kissed and sucked at the spot just below his jaw. “I can feel you getting close, sweet boy,” you said softly, punctuating the sentence with a kiss. “I want you to cum for me, Spencer. I want to see how pretty you look when you cum.”

His moans devolved into desperate whimpers and gasps, stomach tensing as he got closer and closer to the edge. He came suddenly, spilling onto your hand and the plane of his stomach, painting his abdomen in white. His chest was heaving as he came down, shaking with each slow stroke of your hand as you worked him through it. 

“Did that feel good?” You asked softly, kissing his cheek.

“Yes,” he gasped, seemingly at a loss for words. “ _ Thank you _ .” You smiled and shifted off of his lap, glancing back at the way he slumped lazily against the pillows, cock softening against his tummy. 

“You’re so cute, Spencer,” you thought aloud, almost regretting it until he smiled lazily in response. 

“You called me Spencer,” he mused as you grabbed a hotel towel from inside of your bag, settling on the bed beside him. “Just then and… and before. You never call me that.”

“Oh,” you replied, “I guess I did.” You were careful as you cleaned him up, tossing the towel towards the end of the bed as you carefully pulled his boxers back up. “Do you mind if I call you that?”

His eyes went wide and he quickly shook his head. “ _ No! _ No, I don’t mind at all if you call me Spencer,” he said quickly. “I’d, um, I’d actually really like it.”

“Okay,” you replied, pulling your shirt over your head. You curled against his side, remembering the presence of  _ cuddling _ on the list. You slung your leg over his lap and wrapped your arms around his chest, nestling your head against his shoulder. 

“What about you?” He asked suddenly. 

“Hm?” You asked, blinking up at him. 

“You were supposed to teach me about digital stimulation,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I want to learn how to reciprocate.”

_ God _ , you thought,  _ what a perfect gentleman.  _ “Oh, I guess I kind of forgot that was what we were doing,” you admitted. “Sure, just…” You paused, chewing your lip. “I’m going to sit here, and why don’t you sit,” you paused, spreading your legs slightly, “Right here.”

He obeyed easily, looking at you for guidance as he settled between your thighs. You sat up slightly so you could tug your panties down your legs, discarding them to the side to be retrieved again later. Spencer swallowed hard, eyes glued to your face out of a sense of decorum. 

“You know basic anatomy, don’t you Spencer?” You asked, grinning as he nodded at you with wide eyes. “Of course you do, I’m sure you’ve read about this a lot haven’t you?” He nodded again, a blush present on his cheeks. “Why don’t you touch me however you want for now, and I’ll guide your hands if I need to, okay?”

He was delicate at first— his first featherlight touch sent shivers down your spine as you relaxed against the pillows, trying not to show how exposed and vulnerable you felt. His fingers traced the shape of you, sweetly, reverently. You weren’t sure that you’d ever been with a virgin before, certainly not someone who had never even seen porn, at the least. 

Spencer Reid explored you like uncharted territory, mapping out every curve and fold of your skin. The proximity, the warmth, the delicate movements… it made you ache. Your body reacted instinctively, shifting slightly as if it might give you more than what he was offering. 

He murmured under his breath as he continued his path, a small furrow forming between his brows, like you were a test that he was desperately trying to remember the material for.

“ _ Spencer _ ,” you nearly pleaded, your breathing unsteady as he looked up at you. “Please just touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he replied, an innocent look in his eyes. You weren’t sure if the innocence truly ran that deep, or if he was toying with you. And, truthfully, you doubted that it would be possible to handle the cognitive dissonance that came with the latter.

He took mercy on you, just barely dipping his middle finger into the wetness that had accumulated at your entrance. You whimpered softly, gripping the comforter as he circled your clit with deliberate motions. 

“Where’d you…” You bit your lip, taking a deep breath as you noted the way his tongue poked from the side of his mouth in concentration. “ _ Fuck _ , where did you learn to touch me like that?”

“I read a book before I came over here. Well, I re-read it, just to make sure it really stuck,” he explained, his voice lower, more gravelly than you were used to. 

He had a fucking study session before he came over?  _ God, that was fucking hot _ .

“If you can learn everything from a book, maybe you don’t really need my help, Dr. Reid,” you teased your breath catching as he moved his thumb to your clit. “I mean… you’re acting like you already know what you’re doing.”

“I’m a hands-on learner,” he said back, and as soon as you saw the grin on his lips, you knew you were in fucking  _ deep  _ with him. 

“I’m—  _ fuck _ , I’m ready for your fingers, Spencer. Like, really ready.”

His brows furrowed as he met your gaze, all hints of the teasing, cocky boy beneath you gone. “Are you sure? Because I had read that it takes women on average 743 seconds to become completely aroused, which is about twelve minutes, and we definitely haven’t—”

“I am so fucking sure, Spencer.” His cheeks went pink and you gave him an encouraging nod. “You’re doing a really good job.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, a smile painting his pretty lips. Next time, you decided, you would make use of those. His breath had turned shaky with nerves as he let his fingers trace along your pussy again, his middle finger circling around your entrance, gathering your wetness on the tip of the digit.

He was a fucking  _ tease _ and you couldn’t even be angry about it. You had half a mind to beg, because you were so ridiculously turned on you thought you might cry, but just as soon as the thought crossed your mind, he pushed his finger inside of you. 

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, and, of course, Spencer noticed. You didn’t want to give him an ego, but,  _ fuck _ , it was hard when everything felt that good. He curled his finger upward without you having to instruct him, and you knew he was searching for your g-spot.  _ Fucking overachiever _ . 

His tongue poked out once more as he focused, exploring your inner walls in a way that felt equal parts clinical and sexual. You cried out suddenly as his finger pressed against  _ that _ spot, making the pit of pleasure in your belly flare up and burn. 

“So that’s your g-spot,” he mused aloud, biting his lip as he added a second finger, thrusting them slowly, in and out, curling them just-so he brushed your g-spot whenever it suited him. “Did you know that what people call the ‘g-spot’ hasn’t been found in any female cadavers that have been studied?” He asked, meeting your gaze. 

You would chide him for bringing up  _ cadavers _ with his fingers inside of you, but then he’s pushing his fingers deeper and you can’t bring yourself to say anything at all. 

“Some have said that the g-spot is a myth and that it’s only been created to show that all women can and should be able to reach orgasm just from penetration, which is only possible in about 18% of women.”

“Yeah?” You asked, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back against the pillows, grinding against his fingers. “ _ Fuck _ , Spencer, please rub my clit.”

He did as he was told, using his free hand to rub at the bundle of nerves in slow circles, matching the pace of his fingers. It was torturous and incredible and you were so desperate for more that you wanted to scream.

“Occam’s Razor says that the simplest explanation is often the right one,” he continued, talking to you casually, like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pussy, like you weren’t careening towards an orgasm. “So, many sexual health experts actually believe that when people stimulate the ‘g-spot,’ they’re actually just stimulating the clitoris internally. What about you? What do you like?”

“I like whatever makes me cum fastest,” you gasped. “More pressure on my clit, Spencer, please.” He pressed harder and you cried out, nodding encouragingly. “Just like that, don’t stop.”

You could feel him itching to speed up, the pace of his fingers increasing as you laid back. “No, Spence, don’t stop means to literally keep doing what you’re doing sweet boy,” you explained, nails digging into your palm as he brought you closer and closer. His pace returned to  _ exactly _ what you wanted and you gave a satisfied sigh. “Good boy. I’m  _ so so close _ , Spencer.”

“I want you to cum,” he said softly, meeting your gaze. 

“Make me then.”

He redoubled his efforts, adding pressure to your clit, curling his fingers on every thrust so they hit your g-spot, or maybe not, since he implied that it didn’t even exist. All you knew was that you were about to come apart on Spencer Reid’s fingers and that it felt fucking incredible. 

Your breath went suddenly staccato as you found yourself right on the edge, needing  _ something _ to push yourself over. Without really considering the implications, you thought about Spencer. 

You thought of the feel of his cock in your hand, how it felt when he came in your hand, how it looked as he painted his tummy with his release. You thought about how he sounded, the pretty noises he made, the way it took him no time at all to finish and how sweet he looked after.

Mostly, you thought about how you were the first one to touch him like this, how you were the first one he’d touched too. You thought about how right then, at that moment, you were each other’s and no one else’s. 

You came on his fingers with a desperate moan, biting into your fist a little too late to muffle the sound. Spencer worked you through it with his deliberate, skilled fingers, until you were twitching and shifting away from his touch. 

You felt hot all over as you came down, the whole world hazy and electric. Spencer wiped his fingers on the towel at the end of the bed and retrieved your panties from where they’d landed on your suitcase earlier, sliding them up your legs carefully.

“Was that okay?” He asked, the boyish innocence returning. 

You gave a sleepy nod, nuzzling into the pillows. Usually you got a little tired after cumming, but you felt like you needed to  _ hibernate _ after experiencing his fingers. “Better than okay,” you hummed. 

Spencer laid on the bed beside you, not touching, just… looking at you. And it felt strange, but at that moment, you felt more vulnerable than you had the entire night. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what there was to say. You had just opened your mouth when there was a knock on the door and you shot up suddenly. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” you whispered, fixing your messy hair. “Get into the bathroom, hide in the shower. Take the cum towel.” Spencer wrinkled his nose, but did as he was told as you pulled up your flannel pajama shorts. 

As soon as he was properly hidden, you gave your hair a final pat and opened the door. 

“Hey, I thought I heard that you were awake, and I just wanted to talk to you about the case,” Elle said, holding up a case file. “First I think that— wait… why are you so disheveled right now.”

“You woke me up,” you lied quickly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Your coffee machine is running,” Elle pointed out, glancing past you into the room. “What were you up to in here?”

Alarms sounded in your head, and you desperately searched for an excuse that would get her out of your hair. “I was masturbating,” you blurted out, immediately regretting it when you saw the look on your friend’s face. “And you interrupted me, so…”

Elle chuckled under her breath, an amused grin on her lips when she looked back up at you. “Jesus Christ. Alright, I’ll go see if Morgan is up. Have a good night, (Y/N).”

You waved at her and immediately closed the door, leaning back against it when you were sure she’d gone down the hall. Spencer immediately poked his head out of the bathroom, arms crossed over his bare chest. 

“I left my clothes out here,” he said nervously, gesturing to the pile of his things in the middle of the room. “Do you think she noticed?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “No, I think she would’ve said something, right?” You asked. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. You know her best.”

She would’ve said something. You knew that, you were  _ sure _ . But really, you weren’t sure at all. Part of you hoped that she hadn’t, so you could keep the lessons going and let yourself pretend it was for her benefit and not yours. 

And for now… that would be your secret. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! you can also find me on @catsadams or @subbyspence on tumblr<3


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